Influenced by Love and Alcohol
by bipping
Summary: Oneshot, in which everyone's favourite personified nations attempt to use pick up lines. Some are successful, some aren't, but they're all pretty awful. Features numerous pairings, such as Spamano, USUK, GerIta, and a wealth of others


**Author's Note:**

Okay... I really don't know what this is...

Oh wait, yes I do: MY TWENTIETH UPLOAD!

Thanks to everyone who has ever read something of mine; you made this possible.

I own nothing.

Also, uploading from my phone, so apologies for SPAG- spelling and grammar, but it looks like spaghetti

* * *

><p>"Hey, Romano?"<p>

Rolling his eyes, the Italian nation turned to stare at the Spaniard bounding towards him. "Yes, bastard?" he asked.

Spain seemed to freeze for a moment. His deep green eyes stared at Romano intensely for a while, as though he was concentrating, or trying to remember something. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with an adorable gleam, and he smiled at the younger and said, "I think there's something on your ass, Romano."

"There- there is?" Romano asked, feeling his cheeks heat up. He knew he had fallen over a couple times that day, but surely he hadn't landed in anything?

"Si," Spain's smile turned sly, and his eyes gleamed mischievously. "My eyes."

* * *

><p>"I don't understand!" Spain cried into his hands. "I just did what you told me to!"<p>

Prussia lowered his beer and cackled. "I still can't believe you took advice from Frannie in the first place!"

"Why wouldn't he take advice on his love life from me?" cried France, upset by Prussia's criticism, and his nickname. "I'm the nation of l'amour!"

"You gave him a crappy unawesome pick up line! That is not helping him with his love life at all!"

France placed his wine glass down on the table elegantly. "They always work for me."

"Prove it," challenged Prussia, his red eyes narrowed.

The blonde nation rose from his seat. "Fine then."

Prussia watched him manoeuvre his way through the rather full pub, before coming to a halt at the bar where two women- he recognised them as Seychelles and Belgium- were drinking.

He nudged Spain in the ribs, hoping that watching the Frenchman get rejected might cheer his friend up a little.

Spain raised his desolate head from his arms, revealing a very nasty black eye which, due to his relationship with a certain Italian, wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

France bent down slightly, and purred something French into Seychelles' ear that caused her to blush.

Two pairs of eyes, one emerald, one ruby, widened as, instead of getting shot down, the Frenchman winked and blew the pair a kiss as he exited with Seychelles clinging to his arm.

"Shit," stated Prussia awesomely. "He left us with his unawesome bill! That bastard needs to stop buying his shitty unawesome wine."

Spain didn't reply, as he was too busy greeting the feline-looking blonde who slipped herself into France's now-vacant seat opposite him.

Sipping her drink, Belgium nodded at his eye before asking, "Romano?"

"Si," Spain nodded.

"France got him to say some unawesome pick up line to that unawesome bitchy tomato," explained Prussia, slamming the tankard he had just drained of beer to the table.

As Belgium bobbed her head, Spain asked, "Hey, what did he say to Seychelles?"

The woman cocked her head. "Why?"

"Well, it seemed to work better than the one he told me to tell Romano..."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "The unawesome pervert was speaking his language of unawesomeness, how is she-"

"I happen to speak French fluently," hissed Belgium, still smiling like a cat.

"Scheiße," muttered Prussia. "Nicht-"

"Und Deutsch," she said, cutting him off. "Remember the First World War?"

Suddenly, Prussia found his empty beer tankard a lot more interesting than the conversation.

"So what did he say?" asked Spain again.

Belgium shrugged. "He told her that her dress looked nice on her."

"That's it?" Prussia looked up in disbelief.

That feline smile returned as Belgium raised her drink to her lips. "He also told her it would look a hell of a lot nicer on his bedroom floor."

* * *

><p>Hungary rubbed her eyes tiredly, wondering who the hell could be hammering on Austria's door so loudly at such a late hou-<p>

"Hey Frying Pan Bitch! 's Pr'ss in? Ma awsomeness needs ta speak to him!"

Of course.

Who else was she expecting at this hour but an (awesomely) intoxicated Prussia, leaning on a (slightly) less drunk Spain, and a (relatively) sober Belgium-

Wait, Belgium? No France?

Well, that was one less person for her to whack with her skillet.

Prussia stumbled awesomely from his position resting between the two countries and pushed past Hungary, tripping up the stairs towards where Austria slept.

Which he, for some reason, knew the location of.

Hungary watched him fall up the stairs, then turned to his accomplices, expecting an explanation.

Spain rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and Belgium smiled a tipsy, catlike smile.

"We tried to take him home," she started.

Spain nodded, then took over. "We tried to get him to bed, but then he started crying and wailing and demanded we come here because he said he forgot something."

Hungary looked up at the large bang she heard from upstairs, and wondered what the hell the fallen nation could be doing.

And then she noticed Spain's black eye.

Letting out an excited squeal at the thought of what Spain had done to earn such a wound, she opened the door a tad wider so that the two countries could enter.

She heard another loud noise from upstairs, and excused herself from their company momentarily, in order to obtain her frying pan.

…

"PRISS!"

Austria blinked sleep's last lingering hold on him away, and pushed himself up slightly. He rubbed his eyes before reaching for his glasses and turning on the light by his bed.

"PRISS!" yelled the same all-too-familiar voice that had woken him from his slumber.

His door was thrown open, and a clearly drunk Prussian threw himself onto Austria's bed, where he clung to the man's shirtsleeves, close to tears, and wailed.

"Prussia, what-?" Austria began, but he was silenced by a frantic plead.

"Please Priss," Prussia blinked, a few droplets pushing through his pale eyelashes and trailing down his face, "you gotta help the awesome me."

"I- I do?"

Under normal circumstances, Austria would've yelled and shouted at Prussia, protesting that he hated him, and commanding him to get out.

But these were not normal circumstances.

There seemed to be something really upsetting Prussia. He was crying, and holding Austria in what was almost a hug.

He nodded into Austria's shoulder. "Ja," he whispered awesomely. "You do."

"What's wrong?" Austria asked, feeling exceptionally out-of-character, but then again, who really acts normally when they're woken by a hysterical (drunk) Prussian at whatever time in the morning?

Throws me off guard every time.

"I- I lost my teddy bear," Prussia admitted hesitantly. "So- So I need you to sleep with me instead."

* * *

><p>The next morning, both Prussia and Spain were woken by headaches.<p>

Of course, Prussia's was the worst, but this was due to the fact that, not only had he drank more than Spain, Hungary had also chosen to hit him wig her frying pans few times in order to wake him.

Which hadn't been awesome.

What had been awesome, however, was when she finally stopped squealing like an obsessed fangirl and attempted to set him up with Austria.

He felt exceptionally good about that.

Granted, it didn't stop his head from hurting.

Hungary made them all breakfast, and, as Spain wolfed it all down like he hadn't eaten in a thousand years, Prussia couldn't help but awesomely notice the way Belgium- wait, why was Belgium there again? Last night was all a bit blurry... His awesomeness thought that Belgium had replaced another blonde, French speaking country- kept looking at... Hungary?

Ooh, Prussia now had something he could hold against the feline woman.

Except, he really felt too unawesome to blackmail anyone right now.

How much had he drank?

"Hey, Belgien?" Prussia began.

The blonde turned to look at him, eyebrows raised curiously.

He spoke a few words to her in German, which caused Austria to look up a the two incredulously.

Belgium blinked. "You really think-?"

"It can't hurt to try," Prussia interrupted, shrugging.

She took a deep breath, blinked, and then fixed her pale green eyes on the slim brunette next to Austria.

"Hungary," she began, "could you hit me with your frying pan?"

Said frying pan was currently being used by Hungary to serve Austria's breakfast. Her dark eyebrows drew closer, and she frowned confusedly. "Why?"

"So I-" Belgium's gaze flicked to Prussia, who nodded in his best attempt at reassurance, "so I can make sure I'm not dreaming."

Spain stopped eating long enough to ask, "Bella, why would you be dreaming?"

Two pairs of green eyes locked; one pair confused, the other determined.

Belgium's lips twisted upwards into the catlike smile she was famous for, Hungary's parted slightly with her confusion.

"Because," the blonde explained, "surely a woman as beautiful as Elizaveta only exists in my dreams."

* * *

><p>"Yo, West! Guess what!"<p>

Germany rolled his eyes at his brother's booming voice. "Prussia, you left your stupid bird here again, if that's what you're going to scream about."

He heard the Prussian begin to coo, no doubt finally finding the chick.

"Gilbird! Mummy missed you! Yes I did! Yes I did!" he squealed, like the distant, widowed spinster aunt, who always wished they could have children, but don't, and so are forced to dote on their nieces and nephews.

Germany continued to wipe down his table, wondering if Prussia was still drunk.

"Bruder, can you stay with France or Spain tonight?" he asked.

"Why?" the albino entered his line of vision, finally emerging from the hallway and walking through to the dining room.

"Because I'm having Italy und Japan round, and the last thing I need is a repeat of last time-"

"Hey! That was no fault of the awesome me!"

"Oh?" Germany raised a slender blonde eyebrow. "Who's fault was it then?"

Prussia bit his lip in concentration, before blinking determinedly and stating, "Hungary's."

Germany placed his cloth down, and looked Prussia in the eyes. Despite being the younger brother, he was now taller than Prussia, most likely because Prussia wasn't strictly speaking a country any more.

"How," he began, "was you puking all over mien guests after embarrassing me with stories of my childhood any fault of Hungary's?"

"She took me out drinking," stated Prussia.

"Prussia, you were with me for the entire evening, you got drunk on beer from our fridge."

Prussia seemed to think for a moment. "Fine; she took me out drinking this one time."

"Mien Gott... How are we related?" asked Germany.

This caused Prussia to launch into a lecture on the Unification of Germany: the Awesomely Abridged Version.

Eventually, he stopped and yelled, "What's with all the unawesome distractions, West? I had news!"

"Well, what is it?" Germany grit his teeth, beginning to lose his temper.

"I got myself a date with Specs," stated Prussia beaming.

Germany was more than a little surprised. He felt his jaw drop. "How the hell did you manage that?"

"Used an awesome pick up line, didn't I? Hey, you should use some on that Italian who always follows you around!"

Germany froze. "Why would I-?"

He was cut off by Prussia's trademark laugh. "Kesesese, West, it's obvious you like him! You can't hide something like that from me and my awesomeness!"

Germany considered arguing for a while, but realised how futile his efforts to convince Prussia of anything other than the truth would be. "What do you suggest I say?"

Wrapping his arm around Germany, Prussia said, "Ah, West, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that."

...

Germany gulped down yet another pint.

He needed to be a hell of a lot drunker for this.

"Hey, Italy?" he slammed his empty glass back down onto the table.

"Yeah Germany?" Italy turned from his conversation with Japan to answer the blonde. He smiled at him, and blinked a couple times.

Germany grabbed a fistful of tablecloth- why had he spent all day cleaning the table if, in the end, he was going to use a tablecloth?- and closed his eyes tight.

Was he- Was he sweating?

Damn.

There was no way he should be this nervous.

He looked down at the napkin in his lap. It contained a few of Prussia's best pick up lines.

"Um, Italien, I just... I wanted to tell you that life without you would be like a broken pencil."

"Oh?" Italy looked confused for a minute, before closing his eyes and beaming. "Grazie Germany!"

"No, Italy, I wasn't finish-"

Japan smiled sadly at Germany, before saying, "Italy, I think what Mr Germany is trying to say is that life without you is pointless."

Italy stopped "ve~"ing to himself, and then turned to Japan.

"That's nice," he said. "Could you pass the pasta?"

"Goddamn it Italy!" yelled Germany, "I am trying to tell you that I love you, and all you care about is pasta?"

"Ve~ you love me Germany?" For once, the volume of Germany's voice hadn't caused Italy to cry.

In fact, he was smiling.

Very brightly.

Shit.

Germany suddenly realised what he had just said.

"Um, ja..."

Germany trailed off as Italy threw himself at him.

Unbeknownst to them, a certain Prussia who had been kicked out of the house stood at the window, high-fiving the Hungarian who had come stalking with him.

* * *

><p>Latvia was just sitting around, minding his own business, like Latvia's do, when all of a sudden, the colossal pile of colossalness that was Russia sat next to him, and wrapped him arm around Latvia's shoulders.<p>

He said only, "Hey Latvia, I bet you wish we were still Communist, so the two of us could become one."

* * *

><p>"Yo, British Dude!" cried America, waking England from the nap he'd been taking.<p>

He was napping instead of paying attention to the World Meeting, which was probably a bad idea, seen how Switzerland was talking.

"What do you want 'Merica?" he mumbled sleepily, due to the fact Scotland had kept him up all night bullying Wales, who had then spent the early hours of the morning crying.

"I just wanted to let you know that if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put "u" and "I" together."

Completely misinterpreting this statement, due to his poor, exhausted mind, England replied, "America, you're so stupid it wouldn't surprise me if you did think "I" followed "u"."

* * *

><p>France was drunk, and the world knew it.<p>

Literally.

He fell through the door to the Conference Room, trousers on back-to-front, jumper on inside-out, hair in disarray.

He tripped over Germany, crawled along the floor before stopping by an unimpressed England.

"Bonjour Angleterre," he said, smiling like a drunk moron. "Are your pants made out of mirrors, because I can see myself in them."

* * *

><p>Estonia was busy making dinner for himself, Latvia, Lithuania and Russia, when all of a sudden, someone very tall and very strong hit him on the back.<p>

"Hey Estonia," said Russia,"I bet you wish we were still Communist so the two of us could become one."

* * *

><p>Lithuania felt his grip tighten around his glass.<p>

Tonight, he would do it.

He could see Belarus on the other side of the room, with her sister Ukraine, and was determined that, when he left, it would be with her on his arm.

Estonia nodded, smiling.

Lithuania finished his drink.

He felt the alcohol cloud his judgement even further.

He walked over- stumbled over- to Belarus, and smiled up at her.

Her gaze was cold.

Her face was expressionless.

Ukraine smiled at Lithuania, greeted him politely, then sipped her drink.

Lithuania looked up at Belarus with all the awe of a love-struck school boy, and said, "I w-w-was just wondering if you were a magnet, bec-cause I'm attracted to you."

Belarus glared at him.

"I mean, what I really meant, what I was actually wondering was if you were an interior decorator?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"You know, because when I s-s-saw you, the room became beautiful."

Ukraine giggled, but Lithuania wasn't sure of it was because she found the line cute, or pitied him.

"I suppose, wh-what I'm trying to say," he started again, "is that I n-need directions, and th-thought you could help."

Belarus blinked. "Directions to where?"

Lithuania smiled bashfully, blushing. "To your heart."

* * *

><p>"Norge! Yo, Norge, stop not giving a shit about the watermelon!"<p>

Ah, the yells of an intoxicated Denmark.

Was there any sweeter sound to wake the other three Nordics at, oh, stupid o-clock in the morning, than his ridiculous arguments with Norway about things no one but him understood.

"No, Norge, you listen to me! The melons have enough on their plates without you saying things like that about their mother!"

"Denmark," Norway whispered, trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to wake the others up, "shut the hell up."

"But the watermelons!" he yelled, eyes brimming with tears.

"I love the fucking watermelons! We'll adopt a village of them tomorrow. But for now, please, let's just go to bed!" Norway whined angrily.

Denmark raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Ah, so you want me in bed," he began, before tripping over.

Holding out his hand, Norway rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Woah, Norge," Denmark stared at him drunkenly. "You have eyes!"

"Yes Den, yes I do," Norway nodded.

"Do you have a map? Only I keep getting lost in them."

Shaking his head at the pick up line, Norway said, "How the hell did you get this drunk, Den?"

"Hey," Denmark raised his hands defensively, "I'm not drunk, I'm just intoxicated by you!"

* * *

><p>Canada sighed.<p>

"France," he finally asked, "am I invisible?"

"Nope," said France, pulling on the sides of his bow tie.

"You- You can see me?" exclaimed Canada, smiling.

"Oui," France turned to face him, his eyes gleaming, "how about next Friday?"

* * *

><p>"Hey Liet?"<p>

Lithuania turned. "What is it Poland?"

"Did you like, buy your clothes in a discount sale?" the blonde asked.

"N-no," Lithuania answered truthfully looking at them, worried there was something wrong with them.

"Oh," Poland paused thoughtfully. "If we were like, at my house, they would totally be 100% off."

* * *

><p>Finland took Sweden's hand, his mind drifting off somewhere else.<p>

"Sve, do you think it's possible to kiss someone without using your lips?"

Sweden "hmm"-ed thoughtfully, before bending down and kissing the Finn.

Then he shook his head.

And then he kissed him again.

* * *

><p>"Germany!" wailed Italy. "Ger-man-yyy~"<p>

"What's wrong, Italy?" the blonde asked, excusing himself from his conversation with Japan.

Italy appeared to be crying. Wiping away tears, he mumbled, "I bit my lip. Will you kiss it better?"

* * *

><p>"Lithuania," began Russia, staring at him with those cloudy, purple eyes, "I bet you wish we were still Communist so the two of us could become one."<p>

* * *

><p>"Romano," began Spain, his eye no longer black, "I just wanted to apologise for the other day."<p>

"So you should, bastard," he snarled, folding his arms. "I may not be a fucking library book, but I can tell when I'm being checked out."

Spain smiled. "Good think I brought my library card then, isn't it?"

* * *

><p>America had taken England out for a drink.<p>

Needless to say, they were both more than a little bit drunk.

"Hey Iggs, if you were a burger at McDonalds," began America, wrapping his arm around England's shoulder, "you'd be the McGorgeous."

England pushed America's arm off of him and answered his phone. He nodded and "um-hmm"ed a lot, before turning to America and saying, "I really am sorry, old chap, but I'm going to have to leave now."

"Why?"

A pained expression crossed England's face. "Someone's died."

America sat up straight, completely sober. "Who?"

"Our friendship," sighed England. "You killed it with that pick up line."

"Let me bring it back!" yelled America. "Arthur Kirkland, my love for you is bigger than your eyebrows!"

* * *

><p>"Brother Russia? Why so sad?"<p>

"Oh," Russia turned to face Belarus, sighing. "It's nothing sestra."

He laughed to himself, before saying, in a voice devoid of all emotion, "I bet you wish we were still Communist so the two of us could become one-"

"Yes!" Belarus clasped her hands together. "Let's become one!"

"No, you weren't meant- Bela, I didn't-"

But Belarus was smothering herself in his scarf, chanting, "Marriage, marriage, let's be married~"

"Bela, no, I didn't-"

"Brother Russia, our love shall be like the Universe, and never end!"

"No, Belarus, I didn't actually-"

"I hope they don't send you to prison for stealing my heart," she said softly, smiling into his scarf.

That was the final straw.

Russia wrestled his scarf from her grip, and ran.

Watching him go, Belarus yelled, "You can't run forever brother! My heart is like a Rubix cube! The longer you play with it, the harder it gets to crack!"

* * *

><p><strong>Extended AN:**

Okay, first things first; THIS WAS HELL TO WRITE! But it was also fun, and got me out of doing Chemistry coursework, so I'm loathe to complain.

I've seen a few of these knocking about, but not any for Hetalia, so I felt it had to be done.

I hope you enjoyed it, and that it was as fun to read as it was fun to write.

Actually, I hope it's way more fun, because this story has left me in physical pain.

Second point: THIS WAS MY TWENTIETH UPLOAD!

Thank you to every one who has ever read, reviewed, favourites or alerted. You are the reason I have got to twenty.

Twenty uploaded stories, all for Hetalia? I think I might need to start branching out into other fandoms.

But still, twenty! I can remember when one seemed like an impossible number!

Thirdly, if there is a pairing or pick up line you wanted to see that didn't feature in this, please leave a review with it, because there is way more I could do with this (even if I'm going to leave it as complete). If I get... If I get five requests, I will totally write another chapter or something.

But don't feel that you have to, it means a lot to me that you read it.

Thanks dudes~ :D


End file.
